Monthly Archives: April 2016

Yeah, well, so Friday night went about as expected. The Yanks didn’t hit for shit and it came back to bite them when Cookie Monster popped a 2-run home run just over the Green Monster off a hanging Dellin Betances breaking ball that got too much of the outside part of the plate. The final was 4-2. Alex had some good at bats, hit a home run early, and got robbed by Bogarts late—got to admit, I really like that Bogarts, man. Oh well, whadda ya gonna do? They’re at it again tonight, and we’ll be rooting.

The hapless-hittin’ Yanks limp into Fenway tonight and you wonder if this is going to be a season of ass-beatings or what? Way the Yankees have been hitting, it wouldn’t come as any surprise. Then again, a cruddy Yankee team could have the Sox number, who the hell knows? Either way, we’ll be here rooting.

Well, at least it didn’t last long, less than two-and-a-half hours. The Yanks took it on the chin last night in Texas—10-1—but have no fear, slide on over to Esquire Classic and read all about George Frazier, the King of Style. It’s a nice distraction, I swear.

Man, Eovaldi finally put together the big one, eh?—a real masterful performance, carrying a no-hitter into the seventh. Good for him. Betances got touched for a solo dinger in the eighth but was otherwise stingy and Miller sailed through the ninth on less than ten pitches to give the Yanks a tidy 3-1 win. Gotta be pleased for Eovaldi, I find him easy to root for, the big lug.

Meanwhile, over at Esquire Classic, last week gave a bunch of good stories, including features from the new issue (the last edited by David Granger)—a funny Q&A with George Clooney and a chilling feature by Tom Junod about one of the approximately 70,000 adult women who are reported missing each year. I also interviewed Junod about the piece, here. Finally, David Hirshey was the guest on the latest Esquire Classic Podcast giving us the behind-the-scenes scoop on Richard Ben Cramer’s classic profile of Ted Williams. Listen in.

Another huge loss. Prince is dead at 57. He was one-of-a-kind and had what George Frazier used to croon about—he had duende, that special combination of charisma, talent, looks, style and magic.

Back in 1997, Mark Jacobson wrote in Esquire, that Prince “dominated the eighties music scene as Louis Armstrong did that of the twenties, as Charlie Parker did that of the forties. Eloquently exploiting his gender/race dichotomies with a horny sincerity that made him the legitimate successor to such crossover gods as Little Richard and Jimi Hendrix, the Artist was indisputably the Man.”

I was never a huge fan myself but liked more than enough of his music and certainly admired his genius—“horny sincerity” is about perfect.

It was same old song for the Yanks last night. I mean, Carlos Beltran is still hitting, and Didi Gregarious is a little too, but the rest of the team is struggling. Boy, are they ever. If I had anything good to say, I’d say it.